


The Rescue

by HelloIExist



Series: Return of the Apocalypse [2]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Emma being rescued, Ethan and Hidgens finally talk, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, The Infected recovering, Their missing rescue from my last fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25517284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIExist/pseuds/HelloIExist
Summary: After Paul manages to electrocute the meteor, Emma is left alone in the theatre. Then she heard another group and PEIP rushed in to save the island.Aka, how everyone came back at the end of my last fic
Relationships: Becky Barnes/Tom Houston (Mentioned), Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals) (Past), Henry Hidgens & Emma Perkins, Henry Hidgens/Ted, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Tom Houston & Emma Perkins, Xander Lee/John McNamara (Implied)
Series: Return of the Apocalypse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848637
Comments: 18
Kudos: 21





	1. When help came

Emma let out a scream of terror as she felt Paul’s lips leave hers, the man collapsing to the ground, blood leaking from his torn up feet and wrists. The cables were released from his weak grip, the blue glow of the room dimming. The brain, the core of the apocalypse had been destroyed. She and Tom had been right. But she couldn’t separate the success from the cost it came at. She fell to her knees beside Paul, sobbing as life began to leave his eyes. He let himself die to save them. She screamed in anguish, clutching onto Paul’s now tattered work shirt. She cried louder, it was both relief and terror. She was still alive. She could leave Hatchetfield again. Well, she hoped that she would be able to. She knew from the notes in the lab that Professor Hidgens had the same theory. Tom had been sure he was right when he found all they’d need. Normally, Emma would have little to no faith in her brother in law, but in the apocalypse, things were desperate. If they were right then the nightmare was over, then she would have to see anymore reanimated friends or allies or Ted’s running around and trying to kill her. She just gripped the body and cried. Unable to come to any logical conclusions. She knew they had to get out. But what if there were no boats? Paul wouldn’t survive much longer, she wasn’t even sure if he was still alive. She looked back down to him but almost immediately glanced away. All she had been able to take in during those few seconds was the blood soaked into his now matted hair, clumping and turning it a much darker shade of brown than before. She looked back to the exit, she could hardly make out the doorway in the low light. She could see the tangle of bodies on the ground. All the residents of Hatchetfield who had fallen victim to the infection. So many people that she had known and grown up around. She kept crying. Then she felt a hand cautiously touch her face, the touch faint and barely there. A hand gently wiping tears, smearing small smatterings of blood on her face. She glanced down and her eyes met Paul’s weak gaze. He smiled, hand beginning to fall from her cheek. She grasped his wrist and held it there, looking down. She had been so sure that life had left him minutes ago and she wasn’t wasting the precious extra time she’d been given.  
  
“’ts ok…” Paul slurred slightly as he looked up as her, blood pooling on the smooth floor beneath him, he was still clearly fighting for life but he had also come to terms with the knowledge that escape was probably no longer an option for him. He wanted to use these final moments to be with Emma, to have the chance he never had before this horrible night. He was smiling still at her, at peace with the fact that he would die saving her. But she hadn’t accepted that.  
  
“No… No, no! Don’t die on me, ok?!” She was half whispering, half shouting it at the barely living corpse in her arms. “Don’t you dare… It’ll be ok, we can find a boat and get off the island.” She was terrified by the prospect of what would happen now that the apocalypse had ended. But then she looked back down and his eyes were closed. She shook him, she screamed, she pulled herself to her feet. The deed was done, Paul was dead. She had to leave. She stumbled towards the exit, only now fully registering the several injuries she had incurred over the night. She grabbed the heavy doors to the theatre and leant against them, staring out into the dark night. She could still see the lights from all the houses in Hatchetfield, their brightness blotting out the stars above them. Emma let out a shaky sigh as her tears began to dry on her face. She couldn’t cry anymore. There wasn’t anything she could do now. She just kept staring out over the town, the town she had hated for so long and now where she’d probably be stuck forever. How was the government going to explain this? A whole town just fell apart at the hands of an extraterrestrial force. They’d probably kill her, cover their tracks, bomb the island. While she feared it, there was no point in wanting to stay alive when everyone she loved or cared about was dead. Her parents, Paul, Hidgens, Tom, Jane. She had no one left. She watched the lights in the town below again before they flickered slightly, winking out in the blink of an eye. Darkness consuming the island, the only sound was the crashing of waves just past the old motel and trailer park. Well, the only sound for a moment.  
  
Emma soon heard the whirring of a motor. Two motors. Two lights darting through the streets. Darting towards her. Climbing up the hills towards the theatre. The motors getting louder. Oh god no, there were more. There was someone or something on the island. What if the infected had lived? She huddled back behind one side of the heavy doors. She covered her mouth, not trusting herself to not scream in terror. She leant back to hold herself up, knees shaky and blood dripping from her head and the slice through her leg. The cut was caused when she and Tom stole the car. She let out a small choked sob at the mention of the other man she had lost that night. The noise of the two motors were getting even louder, lights shining against the back wall of the theatre. Dim at first then turning bright. The motors reached their loudest before the cut off, parking. She shuddered a little as the group occupying on the motorcycles climbed off and entered the building. There were four of them. Emma hid by the wall as the first person pulled his helmet off, holding out a gun, stepping forward and leading out his group. His eyes were obscured by dark glasses but he moved in such a way that was so contrasted by the mechanical, inhuman movements of the infected. They were survivors like herself. But she didn’t have the guts to move towards them.  
  
“Clear.” The man spoke, eyes studying the room from behind his glasses, gun tracking his eye movements. A woman stepped forward from behind him, her tied back hair and impeccable, heavy-duty uniform only marked her as a woman of the military. Emma watched as she knelt down beside one of the infected men, drawing a knife and holding it over the throat of the body. She made sure she had her knife in the right place, not pressing down yet but prepared to incase the infected tricked her, before turning her attention to the corpse’s arm, pulling the sleeve back and checking pulse. She dropped the arm after a moment and stood up, knife leaving the man’s throat unscathed. She looked back to the man with glasses.  
  
“Dead. Even the infected would have had a pulse, correct?” She confirmed, pushing her knife back into its sleeve and joining the others flanking the leader, who just nodded softly, mumbling something about human veins still being used to pump the infection through the body. Emma watched him nod and consider it. Had they been here to rescue them? Why hadn’t they gotten there earlier? She didn’t know if she could trust them. She tried to keep her breaths soft so no one would hear her. They hadn’t appeared to have noticed her yet. The man was too busy looking around the room, trying to make a plan of action. He then looked back to his team, body not turning to face them, looking over his shoulder.  
  
“Dorsey, Spencer, clear the room and make sure all the infected are dead. Keep the bodies intact for now but if any are left comply with the General’s orders, two in the head one in the heart.” His voice wavered only slightly as he stated the order, Emma couldn’t place why. She just listened as he spoke again. “Schaffer, help me inspect the meteor and gather samples. Do not touch it with your bare skin, we do not know all the dangers yet. Move out.” He pointed off in various directions and the two women he first indicated- Dorsey and Spencer, split away from each other, practically joined at the hip until they were instructed by the man. They walked off in opposite directions of each other, repeating the actions that Dorsey had taken before. Knife over the throat, pulse check, leave the body unharmed if they found none. Emma shifted her attention to the man and the other woman who were approaching the grey meteor, its vibrant blue shade gone. They treated it so carefully, gently peeling back the slimy layers with their gloved hands. They seemed so unfazed as they dropped samples into small jars the man produced. That was until the woman, Schaffer, found the two dangling jumper cables and Paul’s torn apart corpse behind it. Emma strained to hear their conversation as the woman began talking.  
  
“Wounds are unsurprising. From what we saw, the infection repairs the wounds the best in can once it took over the human bodies. It takes an hour at least to heal up.” She sighed as the man stared down at Paul’s body, bored or unfazed by the bloody corpse.  
  
“This one still has blood on him, the wounds would be unsurprising if there was the same blue blood in his veins.” The man corrected, tone only slightly condescending. “He must have electrocuted it. As our scientists predicted, it must have killed the meteor. He got there before we did. Glad he did as well.” Emma let out another shaky sob as she saw Schaffer and the man hoist up Paul’s body, moving it clear of the meteor. Mumbling something about sending him back to any living family. She was so focused on them that she didn’t notice one of the other two moving towards her until she heard a shout and saw a gun drawn on her.

“Don’t move. State your name and comply with orders.” Dorsey demanded, catching the attention of the others in the room. The man noticed Emma and rushed forward to the younger woman’s side, drawing his weapon.  
  
“Don’t try to reason with that thing!” He ordered, raising his gun before Emma snapped out of her state of shock and into survival mode.  
  
“No! No, don’t shoot! I’m not infected, I swear!” She pointed the the blood dripping from her leg and head, then pointing to her eyes. “I’m still human.” She shut her eyes, preparing for the case where the man didn’t believe her and shot her. But he never did. She felt air fly past her face as the gun was lowered quickly. She opened her eyes, seeing that he had backed off a little, the other agents were still ready just in case. She noticed a shadow of sadness and realisation cross the man’s face.  
  
“How did you survive? Speak. Now.” The man ordered, face turning cold again, trying to be serious when with his team. They didn’t need to know his personal feelings. Emma stammered a little. She was extremely afraid of joining Paul now that she had hope of getting off the island. But she managed to find her voice eventually.  
  
“I was with my… friend, Paul.” She pointed weakly at the crumpled body by the meteor. “We were the last two survivors, and I realised earlier that if you want to kill a virus you needed to use the electricity… and we did. It worked but he was too injured…” She broke down again at the mention of Paul and what happened to him. The man before her sighed, waving his hand at one of the women, Emma’s tear-clouded eyes couldn’t make out which.  
  
“Walkie back to the others. Get them to send the helicopter. We better get her and her friend out, see if there is anything to be done about him.” He sighed and took off his glasses, scrunching his eyes and wiping his glasses. He was under far too much stress for this. He looked back up at Emma, who was still crying and spoke again. “I’m Lieutenant Lee, I work for the United States Military. We were sent here to clean up your island after the disaster that befell our team earlier. We need you to come with us to our nearest base for relocation and preparing you to re-enter society after we figure this all out.” He was trying his best to stick to orders and explain things calmly to her. He was clearly distressed but it was his job to control the situation. Emma could tell he wasn’t used to it.  
  
She tried to speak again, open her mouth and ask for an explanation of the night’s events. Who were they? How had they known? Where would she be relocated? What did they mean by that? Her head was swimming with pain, heartache and the reality of all she had seen happen to the people of Hatchetfield. She sunk back against the wall and let her eyes fall closed.


	2. Other Survivors

Emma woke up to a light above her. It was dangling on a shaky chain. It swung one way then the next. She raised one eyebrow at it, confused. Where was she? But for once she wasn’t distressed, she was just lying there, at peace. She moved her arm slightly, a pinching feeling coursing through it. She lazily moved her head to look down at it. Needles and tubes were poking out, a clear patch holding them into her veins. Her eyes went wide. She had always been afraid of hospitals. You wouldn’t think she would be, considering how frequently she was in and out of them as a child. But all her memories involved the pain that lead her there, and how much worse the various procedures hurt. She grabbed at them, tearing them out of her arm with a hiss of pain and a clanking as the metal tips fell against the side of the hospital bed she was on. She shakily vaulted to her feet, struggling with the medical bracelet around her wrist. She wanted it off. She wanted it gone. She looked around the room panicked. It was a clean, pale, brightly lit room, a curtain separating the two halves of the room. There was a small gap in the curtain, allowing access to the door on Emma’s side. She didn’t understand why she was there. All she remembered last was Paul bleeding in her arms. Oh god, Paul. Was he here too? She remembered something else. A man with glasses, she remembered him saying that there was something to be done about Paul. Was he on the other side of the curtain? 

Emma couldn’t resist the temptation to know if it was him. She wrapped her weak fingers around the edge of one of the blue curtains, pulling it back and looking at the bed on the other side. It wasn’t empty. There was a man laying in it, immobile with his eyelids closed, bloody bandages around his neck. She looked up to his face. It wasn’t Paul. She stared in terror at grey, almost white hair, lines creasing his face and the bruises along one of his arms, marked in the way of the stairs he’d fallen down after Paul shocked the meteor. Why was her Professor here? She backed away. He was dead. She had seen his dead body, both infected and not. Her breathing became heavy as she backed away in terror, dropping the curtain. Fuck no. She hyperventilated, tears beginning to fall. She had to get out of here. She tried to dash off, stumbling a little as the pain from her stitched-up wound. What was this place? What had happened?! She took off in a mad dash, leaving the room and being faced with more pale, twisting hallways, empty halls. She kept running, bare feet almost slipping on the cold linoleum floors. She passed doors and doors, small blackboards tacked onto the doors, names written on them. Emma caught very few of the names but the ones she did managed to read as she ran made her blood run cold. 

‘Linda Monroe’

‘Zoey Sampson’

‘Becky Barnes’

They were all there. People she had known in life, people who had died and joined the hive. How were they all here? Was it real? Did it happen? She was now breathing heavier, choking on air as she sobbed, trying to catch her breath as she braced herself on the nearest wall, two hallways full of more doors leading off on each side of her. She hit her fist against the wall as she cried. She didn’t understand what had happened. She just wanted the nightmare to be over. But, for her at least, it wasn’t yet. She now heard a set of footsteps coming in her direction. They were quick and purposeful, then there was another. She could hear someone coming from her right, she could hear sobbing and quick footsteps. She curled into herself, holding onto the corner of the wall as she felt something make contact with her. The impact knocked her off balance, a hand moving to clutch her stomach. She didn’t want to look at the cause of the collision, but she opened her eyes to see someone on the ground, curled into a ball by the opposite wall. Bandages were wrapped around their head, bloody near the top, although ti was dry, indicating that the injury was maybe healed. It was the kid from the Professor’s house, Emma had seen her when she was infected. And she couldn’t see her eyes now. So, she stayed back, crying as the second set of footsteps joined them. 

“Hannah! Thank fuck you stopped running.” A teenage girl, panted. She had stopped in front of Emma, looking down at the kid. They were both also wearing hospital gowns. Emma couldn’t make out her face, covering her own mouth with the hope that no one would hear her. The little girl’s cries were drowning hers out. She had to get away from them. She had to get away from people. She tried to pull herself up, but it was difficult, thankfully far enough that they hadn’t looked over. She could hear the pair’s conversation.

“Hannah, look at me…”

“Bad songs!”

“Hannah, it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you, it’s me.”

“Blue.”

“Hannah, please. I’m trying to get us out of here. Please be quiet. What if the people here try to hurt us? Please, calm down.”

“Bad songs! Bad songs!” The kid was repeating the phrase over and over again, causing Emma to look over. The kid had her hands over her ears, pulling away every time the teenager tried to reach over to her. She opened her eyes at one point and Emma noticed the flash of white, no blue. They were human. Like the team who rescued her had been. How? She pulled herself up to her feet, taking a hesitant step forward.

“D-do you know what’s happening?” She asked softly, causing the pair to look up, the little girl sniffling and staring up at her, studying her. Emma felt like the girl was judging her. The teenager looked at Emma too, dark hair hanging in her eyes as she considered the woman. They looked as scared as Emma felt, the only sounds in the hallway were Emma and the girl’s soft cries as they both tried to fight off their tears. The teenage girl stepped towards Emma, slightly in front of the kid, protective. 

“Who the hell are you? Where are we?” She asked, she seemed defensive, cold. Emma supposed she reminded her of herself in a way. She was just as afraid and looking for answers with them, thinking of them as her opponents. But she wanted the same answers they did.   
“I have no idea where we are… I remember seeing the military and I think they brought us with them.” Emma looked up and down the halls, slight sobs and stutters breaking up her words. “My name is Emma Perkins… I was with her during the infection…” She gestured to the little girl who looked up at the teenager with a nod.

“I’m Lex, this is Hannah.” The teenager grunted, gesturing her sister. “We need to get out of here, I don’t trust it.” She sighed, stretching back with a small wince. Emma could now see the shadow of tightly wrapped bandages around her stomach. The little girl- Hannah, looked up at her sister in worry. Emma just nodded in reply.

“I don’t either… Everyone from Hatchetfield is still here. They’re all in these halls, I saw all of them die. And now they’re back.” Emma’s voice shook again, she was trying not to cry at the haunting memories of being chased through the night by the reanimated corpses of the town’s residents. “There was a man… He saved me, he was on the island. I think he took us all. And somehow you’re alive.” She was slightly more at peace now. She knew they were all in the same boat. The other two were just as terrified and injured as she was. They needed answers like she did. She looked to Lex’s face noticing a change in expression, well, multiple changes in expression, all flitting across her face. There was worry, confusion and pain, but all with the undertone of hope. There was something Lex was thinking about, considering. She took a few small steps away from Hannah, looking down the left hall for a moment mumbling something to herself. Emma listened for a moment all she could really make out was the alphabet, she almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it before Lex started off towards the right hallway, reading each sign on the front of the room, mumbling letters to herself. Then she finally stopped, staring in through the window in the door. She let out a soft breath, from a few meters away, Emma could see tears forming in her eyes.

“What is it?” Emma asked softly, moving to the teenager’s side. It was one of the closest doors to their current spot, the small opening in the three halls. It was the last door on the side that Lex and Hannah. People seemed to have been ordered alphabetically. And G came after F. Emma stared in at the body in the door’s view. All she could make out was that it was a person. No facial features were clear, obscured by horrific burns across the body. Emma thought she could make out dark hair but she really couldn’t tell. She glanced over to Lex. The girl had one trembling hand over her mouth, other planted on the glass, staring forward.

“I did that…” 

It was a small voice from behind the pair, soft, scared. They turned in unison, noticing that Hannah had followed them to the door. Emma didn’t even think she could see the body. How did she know what they were looking at? Emma looked to Lex for guidance on how to deal with the kid. The teenager crouched beside her sister.

“You really didn’t… We don’t know what happened to him, right? We only just woke up here after everyone started singing…” Emma raised her eyebrows as Lex spoke. Did they not know what happened? They obviously remembered that Hatchetfield has been in the apocalypse, but why did Lex not remember that she was with the shambling corpse of the dead teenage boy?

“You don’t remember.” Emma frowned, looking at the pair. “You don’t know what you did, do you?” She saw Lex freeze at the comment, at the implication that she did something she wasn’t fully aware of. She shook her head a little before her eyes widened, Hannah nodding at her. 

“I remember…” Hannah moved between them, stepping closer to the door and standing as tall as she could to look through the door at the body. “I burned him… It killed Webby.” She took off on a small tangent, mumbling senselessly. Emma looked to the teenager for an explanation but she had nothing to stay, she was staring forward in shock. 

“W-What happened to us? You, me, Hannah? What happened in Hatchetfield?” Lex asked. She was having the same breakdown Emma did earlier. She was trying to take in all of it as quickly as she could, trying to hold up her strong exterior. She stepped forward towards Hannah before being distracted by a noise from the other hall. Emma looked up towards the noise as well, seeing two others walking towards them. They were both wearing identical military uniforms. And they had clearly spotted the three of them. Lex pulled Hannah behind her, automatically getting defensive about the little girl. But Emma recognised them both. It was the man with glasses, her mind was so foggy that she couldn’t remember his name. One of the women who had been with him was by his side, explaining something to him. Neither of them seemed worried that the three were roaming the halls together. Emma instinctively turned to defend the two kids behind her. The man looked up, away from the clipboard the woman was showing him.

“Glad at least three of our patients are awake…” he sighed, pulling his glasses off and considering them. Lex glared at him, Emma could hear the rage seeping into her voice.

“What happened?” Her tone was deadly serious, holding her sister close. The woman looked to the man, giving him a look as if to question whether they should say something. The man just shrugged.

“You all died. You technically still are.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my girlfriend for helping me on this chapter and proofreading!

He couldn’t see anything. He could feel very little. His fingers maybe but no other parts of his body. He tried to move them a little, vaguely feeling his fingers making contact with something beneath him. He couldn’t tell what it was. He was too weak to open his eyes. He tapped his fingers a little, trying to get a sense of where he was based on the surface beneath him. Was he in Hatchetfield? Resting in a house or just bleeding out on the street. Was it the rough concrete of the road underneath him? That was the last place he remembered being. He tried to raise his hand; he was regaining feeling there. He moved it from side to side. There was something soft there, moveable. He could pick it up. It was a sheet. Was it over him? Over his corpse maybe. He managed to move his arm now, reaching up and feeling something smooth. A handle? An armrest. He was on a hospital bed. Why? All he could remember was being thrown to the streets. Emma screaming, a loud crack in his ears. That was all he could remember. The searing pain from where the tire protruded into his skull. He tried to sense if anything was there, where he had been hit. Raise his hand, find where his head was. Rough bandages. He really had made it out. He tried to open his eyes again.

When Tom managed to, he was met with the same painfully bright light, flooding his vision and making it hard for him to see much else. There was the grey shell on the outside of the lamp as it swung. It was eerie. He felt like he was being experimented on or something the way he was laying against the stiff bed with the light above him. It was strange. He too was at peace, however. Breathing calm as he considered what he could see. The roof and walls were all white. There was a clipboard on the wall across from him. He tried to move his head to look to his right. Pain shot through it and he let out cry of agony. What had happened to him after? He had been so resigned to his fate; he knew he would die. But he hadn’t died. He let out yet another groan of pain as he tried to move his head again, slower this time. That just elongated the agony. He managed to keep in in that position, feeling his neck strain. He probably shouldn’t have been moving, but he was anyway. He looked around the side of the room on his right. There was a long blue curtain, pulled back and secured, a medical cart on the other side, various gleaming instruments. They were reflecting the light that dangled above yet another hospital bed. An occupied one. Tom tried to get a better look over the large metal guards that were on each side of the bed, preventing further injuries. He strained more; the pain was expected now so he was able to silence his cries. What he saw chilled him to the bone. It was the man Emma had been with, except not the one who seemed slightly knowledgeable. It was the other man, the one who used to have the ugly, ratty moustache.

He was just lying there, nowhere near as awake or aware as Tom was. There was a ghastly ring of stitches around his face, a gross, bloody mark indicating the trauma Tom had seen him suffer through. His face looked wrong on his own body now. The moustache was gone, leaving what was now attached to his head looking like a cheap impersonation or a mask. How had he not bled out when the infected first caught him? Was it still the same night? That was the only explanation Tom could find. That someone had quickly been able to patch them up before they fully passed away. But that made no sense. As his eyes darted around the other side of the room, he noticed a small screen, the time and date clearly displayed.

_‘2:53 AM, 27/11/18’_

It had been three days. Though Tom was still mostly lethargic and sedated, artificially calmed, he could feel worry building. He was questioning everything he knew. Did it really happen? Yes, he knew it did. His injuries remained, so did the other man’s. But he was alive. At least he thought he was. A vivid dream perhaps? No, the bed and his injuries felt too real. The room around his felt too perfect, however. Something felt wrong about this room, this building. He felt the undeniable urge to escape but he knew he couldn’t in this condition. He let out a sigh of frustration, confusion. He didn’t understand. He was just staring at the other man in the room. The constant reminder of everything he’d seen. This man’s face was one of his last memories other than Emma. He frowned as that name crossed his mind. Did she make it out? Was she here too? Despite how long they had despised each other, he wanted her to be alive. He didn’t want to lose his whole family. Emma was the last thing in his life that tied back to Jane. He moved his head back to stare at the roof, almost automatically more comfortable. He had too much on his mind, so much he wanted to forget. He studied the small, speckled patterns in the roof, trying to find another point of interest. Then he heard something. It was a soft creak, almost silent. Was there a door in here? He tried to turn his head to the closest wall to him, but he barely could, just staring near where the wall connected to the roof. He could see the silhouette of an open door. There was also someone in the doorway. He then heard a voice, so quiet, almost a whisper.

“Another one awake…” The voice was coming from a woman, wearing a black military uniform. Tom identified her when he forcibly shifted his head further, clenching his teeth to keep from shouting again. He studied her as she took the clipboard off the wall, coming to his side. She seemed jittery, nervous, unsure of how to act around him. Her eyes just darted away from him, looking at the sheet on the clipboard and marking it. He frowned, maybe his first guess of this place running experiments was accurate after all.  
  
“Where am I?” He managed to get out. His own voice didn’t sound right. It was softer than he had intended. But his hearing still felt off, it was the same volume the woman spoke at. Perhaps his probable brain trauma had impacted that too.  
  
“I’m afraid I can’t fully explain that yet.” She sighed, gently moving to a control for the stiff bed. “Here, I’ll help you sit up, don’t move.” She gently pressed a button and Tom heard a soft mechanical whirring, the third of the bed his head and back rested on beginning to push upwards, moving Tom into a more comfortable sitting position, the woman gently turning his head to face forward. He only winced a little. He soon felt the woman step away from his side, moving so she was more in his view. She glanced down to her clipboard once again before speaking.  
  
“I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, alright?”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
“If you can’t verbally answer, use your hands for any yes or no questions, alright?”  
  


“Alright.” Tom was slightly frustrated by her clearly pedantic nature. He was managing to speak fine; she should just leave it at that. He glanced at her and noticed that she was looking over her page again. He huffed. “You can start talking, you know?” He didn’t mean for it to come off as so harsh, but he wanted an explanation.   
  
“I know… Name?”

“Tom Houston.”

  
  
“Age?”

“42.”

“Occupation?”  
  
“Unemployed.”

  
“Where do you live?”  
  
“Hatchetfield, Michigan.”  
  


“Do you remember how you got here?”  
  
“No.”

  
  
“Do you remember how you got injured?”  
  
“I was run over.” Tom tried not to flinch at the memories, the feeling. He was back there. He was in the car. He shuddered. No. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. But to him it was. The woman who was driving threw him out, tossing him to the street. He barely had time to think as he felt his body hit the concrete. He could almost feel it now as he stared straight ahead in a catatonic state. He couldn’t think of anything other than the tire drawing closer and closer to his face. He had tried to scream, to struggle. But he had no time. The memory had hit him like the car had. He could feel the phantom weight pressing down on his head. His eyes were now screwed shut. Block it out. He was alive now right? Was that a better fate? He hadn’t been at peace with dying but surely it was better than the constant state of terror and panic he had always lived in. He thought he heard himself let out a yell, but his hands had involuntarily moved over his ears. The tire speeding towards his face, the crushing weight, the crack, then black. Replaying again and again, the screaming, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. Then he felt a hand gently on his arm. That hadn’t been there initially when he got hit. That was grounding him slightly. But he was struggling to get out of it. His eyes were still closed, and he could feel his hands shaking.

“Mr Houston?” She was speaking but he could barely hear her. His hearing had almost left him. Then he heard her speak again, she seemed further away. “I’ll be back soon... I promise." Then the faintest of footsteps and the door slamming. He jumped at the sudden noise and screamed out, snapping himself out of his daze. His eyes flew open and he once again became aware of himself. His eyes were clouded by tears and there were shaky, shuddering sobs coming out between his unsteady breaths. The woman was gone as he had expected. Why had she brought it up? Why couldn't she just think before talking? He tried to adjust himself on the hard bed, but he couldn't. His calm persona had completely faltered and cracked. He tried to steady himself, but he knew it wouldn't happen anytime soon. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to wake up like this. It happened far too much than he cared to remember. He always would be struck by vivid memories, visions of the horrors in his life. At first, Jane had always been there to calm him. But then she was just gone, and Tom's current state became the norm. There wasn't much his nine-year-old could do. God damnit, Tim. What had become of him? Tom remembered seeing his son's body and that only made his panic worse. What if Tim wasn't here now? What if he had survived again? He had survived again at the cost of someone else's life. The thought terrified him. He tried to physically shake out the thought, moving his head back and forth, his neck feeling like it was about to snap off and his head feeling like it was about to explode from pain. He couldn't stop screaming and crying. He felt hands on him again. Finally taking in the door that had opened and two sets of hands trying to hold him down, stop him from causing any more damage. He tried to fight back as two blurry faces came into view. The woman was still there, fear clearly plastered over her face as a man aided her. He seemed nowhere near as worried, just trying to stabilise Tom. 

"Mr Houston!" The man shouted, managing to hold Tom down no matter how much strength he tried to put into it. "Mr Houston, relax, please. I understand how stressful this will be for you." His voice had returned to a calmer state, but the way Tom could hear him well indicated that he was raising his voice a little to be heard clearly, probably understanding any disconnects in Tom's mind. Tom stared up at him, trying to blink the tears out of his eyes as the second set of hands left him, the woman stepping away anxiously. Tom could now make out faint tearstains on her face.

"W-What is happening?" Tom heaved one final time, voice betraying him at the end, causing him to trail off as he let out another sob. He felt ashamed of crying in front of these strangers. He was even more stressed by the aggressive hold the man had on his hospital gown. He seemed to notice and relax his grip, stepping back and rubbing his eyes tiredly.  
  
"Mr Houston, though I aimed to explain this to all the residents at once... From what Private Dorsey explained to me, your condition suggests you'd benefit from an explanation. So that's what I'll give you." He sighed and looked around the room to the man on the other side, mumbling something about how he should hear this too before shaking his head and focusing on Tom. "You're in a base belonging to the United States Military, special unit P.E.I.P. From your records we can tell you’re a man of the military as well, although that is largely irrelevant in this conversation.” Tom frowned a little at the man before him’s bluntness, but he felt inclined to listen, this was the closest thing to an explanation he thought he’d get.  
  
“Lieutenant.” The woman spoke softly, gently reminding him to get back to the point. Tom decided that he possibly didn’t mind her.  
  
“Fine.” The lieutenant huffed, looking down at Tom. “What we fought in your town had extra-terrestrial origins… And aliens are never willing to go down without a fight. Sometimes compromises are in order. We’ve managed to tap into their source of power long enough to keep you all alive while we operated on you all. Now we need to sever that connection. But for now, you have your life back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop, chapter 3! I missed a day because I am very lazy, oops.


	4. Bad man

“What do you mean we’re dead?” Lex spat after a moment of silence, staring the man in the eyes, arms folded and eyes forming a hard glare. Emma sighed and rolled her eyes; this teenager was too much for her already. She looked back to the man, also trying to process what she had heard. She was as confused as the other two, but not showing it as clearly as the bratty teenager and her crying sister. The man just shrugged a little as he looked at them, picking at his glasses, cleaning them slowly. He seemed relatively unbothered.

“I meant what I said. You see, it’s very unlike the human body to survive being cut apart.” He had an air of sarcasm in his voice, it was condescending but for once it didn’t bother Emma. She kept listening. “My name is Lieutenant Xander Lee, this is Colonel Katherine Schaffer. You’re currently in the base of P.E.I.P, a sector of the United States Military. I don’t want to go through all of this now, I’ll send an agent to collect each of you in an hour’s time, it’s easier to explain it to all of you at one time, as I expect there’ll be a lot of questions that I don’t want to repeatedly answer. But yes, in simplest form, both of you, the Fosters, not Ms Perkins, are dead.” He looked away from his glasses for a moment, checking to see if his explanation had been enough for them. Emma was staring ahead, blinking in shock, she had no other reactions. His gaze then moved to the sisters, there reactions were much less muted. The little girl, Hannah Foster, he had learned, looked down, shaking her head profusely, unable to come to terms with the thought. Well that’s all he could make out considering he head was down. He then made the mistake of looking to the older of the two sisters. Lex’s eyes were locked on him, glare venomous now. He swore that she would have lunged at him had she not been wearing a flimsy hospital gown and had there not been a giant tear in her stomach. He put his hands up in mock defence. Looking to Schaffer to give them any better of an explanation. She shrugged before continuing off down the hall, she didn’t have to wait around for him after all. He sighed and turned back to them, going to open his mouth with another quick witted or demeaning remark.

“Not dead. Not dead…” Was all Hannah could say, mumbling to herself with her long hair flying about from under the tight ring of bandages. It had been taken out of her normal braids by whoever operated on her. Lex was quick to withdraw from her anger, looking down at her and pulling her sister close. Hannah didn’t like that, Emma and Xander just looked on as the little girl pushed her sister off, trying to run with her eyes clouded by tears. She hit the wall unceremoniously, collapsing again and crying, just repeating the sentiment of ‘not dead, not dead’ to herself. 

Lex went to step towards her sister, feeling undeniable guilt for any role she played in the young girl’s suffering. She always felt like she couldn’t get anything right with Hannah. She had been there from the moment Hannah was born and Lex still didn’t know how to help her in times of emotional distress. Lex felt dead in the water as she watched Hannah let out shaking and screaming sobs. Ethan always swooped in to help, helping Hannah relax with seemingly no effort. Every time he did, Lex would normally feel a pang of jealousy. Hannah was her sister, why did she calm more in the presence of Lex’s boyfriend than Lex herself? She wouldn’t feel that jealousy now if he could sweep in to save the day as usual. But he couldn’t. They had just seen his mangled and scarred flesh resting on a hospital bed. She didn’t know what to do. Thankfully someone else did. She felt the man pulling her backwards a few steps, having readjusted his glasses onto his face. Lex glanced up to his face in surprise, what did he expect to do about Hannah?

“Allow me.” He sighed a little, pushing past Lex to crouch in front of Hannah, whispering softly to the frightened girl. “I know it’s a scary thought, but I assure you that myself and all of my agents are working overtime to guarantee that you all are brought back and able to resume living as soon as possible. You just need to trust me and stay positive for your sister, you can do that, right?” He asked gently, barely able to be heard over the sound of Hannah crying by Emma and Lex. But Hannah could hear him clearly, able to give a small nod before clutching her injured head. She tapped it softly, looking up at Xander. Her eyes were slightly less tear filled than before. He nodded before thinking of something, gently raising his hands into her line of vision. She flinched only slightly at it, trusting him with whatever he was about to do. He began moving his hands in a series of patterns. 

_‘Do you know sign?_ ’ Xander’s inscrutable expression broke into a smile when Hannah grinned widely. She nodded before moving her hands as well.

‘ _Yes._ ’ She paused for a moment, thinking before spelling out a series of letters followed by the rest of her sentence. ‘L-E-X-I doesn’t know how. E-T-H-A-N taught me.’ She smiled up at him.

_‘How are you feeling?’_

_‘Hurt.’_

_‘Do you want to lay down?’_

_‘No.’_

‘What do you want to do?’ Xander watched as the young girl pushed herself off of the ground, looking towards the series of doors. She wandered towards one, wiping her eyes. Xander noticed Lex moving to follow them but he paid no mind to it. He looked through the window at the top of the door. Ah, he forgot about these two. His focus when theorising with his team had always been on Lex and Hannah, the connection they shared with the world PEIP had opened almost thirteen years ago. There was the elderly man too, not as strong from what their scans showed but they all had a feeling about him. The two men that he and Hannah, along with Lex and Emma looking over their shoulders, were looking at now where not two Xander had taken note of. Well, he had taken note of the man who had been with Emma, he was lying on the far side of the room. He had been the one to destroy the meteor, the world owed him a great deal. He hadn’t been particularly interesting to study, nor was the teenager on the other bed. Xander felt a great deal of sympathy for him, he knew from experience that third degree burns were never fun. It was barely even third degree. His whole body was practically burnt to a crisp. Their surviving agents had managed to clean the boy up enough so you could see small pieces of his pale skin. But then there were the jagged scars and open, bloody wounds. Some of the doctors had gone to stitch them up but certain distractions had stopped them from completing the stitches. He sighed and looked down to Hannah, signing to her again. 

_‘What about them?’_

_‘That’s E-T-H-A-N… I killed him…_ ’ Hannah looked down in shame, Xander figured that the guilt would never leave any of those who remembered what they did. He sighed and looked back to Lex, nodding his head in the general direction of the young girl. Lex shrugged and frowned slightly, she obviously thought Hannah was fine. Xander sighed and looked back though the hallway, surprised by the heavy, quick paced footsteps coming towards him. A short, young woman in a black, PEIP branded uniform was rushing towards them, eyes painted with fear and tears rolling down her face. Xander instinctively stepped away from the group and towards her. He had sworn to protect her. So, he had to honour his promise to the man who should have been here now. She shook her head a little at him, hands moving in a wild fashion. Not sign like Hannah and Xander had been using but in a repetitive pattern, trying to stabilise herself.

"What happened, Dorsey?" He asked gently, looking at her in concern. She sighed weakly and shrugged.

"A patient woke up and he lost it..." She ran her hand through her hair causing Xander to nod and rest a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back towards the way she'd came. He looked back towards Hannah, Lex and Emma.

"I'll be back momentarily. You can stay here, or you can report back to your rooms. An agent will be around to log your personal information, so we can begin creating new identities for each of you. As opposite to your old life as we can." He sighed, tucking his glasses into his pockets. "I'll be back soon." He started away from them at a quick pace, glancing back once and noticing one thing out of the corner of his eye, Hannah jolting. Emma jolting in turn. The woman had only just tuned back in and had been startled by Hannah jumping. She crowded in behind Hannah, trying to look into the room that Hannah was so focused on. 

"He's awake..." Lex's hand flew over her mouth, a tearful breath leaving her mouth. "It's Ethan..." She looked over at her boyfriend, his bloody and burnt body broken up by his wide, open eyes, staring at the ceiling. She saw his lips move.

* * *

The first thing Ethan had felt was the searing pain across his body. Visions of everything he had endured before crossing his mind quickly. The gasoline, the fire lit beneath his feet, the Hive's mocking words. Then it faded to black. He still had his eyes closed but his senses were much more alert than anyone else's had been. He knew what burns felt like. Having smoked as much as he did, he was used to burns gracing his fingers and arms. He didn't know how he was still alive. Then his eyes flew open at something in his head.

' _You're really pathetic, aren't you?_ '

Those five words shocked Ethan out of his passed-out sate, who said that? What was in his head?

"Who are you?" He mumbled softly, looking at the panelled ceiling. "What do you mean?"

' _I'm from the better side, Ethan, and you're going to help me_.'

* * *

Emma watched the two girls staring through the glass with a soft smile. While there was the ever-present sadness and jealousy of them getting to have Ethan back but Paul still being passed out. She tried to ignore those thoughts, watching their smiles. Lex picked up Hannah, allowing her to see the teenage boy lying awake. They were both grinning for a moment until Hannah's face fell, looking up at Lex.

"Bad man..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter shit? Yes.  
> Is it choppy? Yes.
> 
> I just had a tough time writing it and getting my point across. Hopefully the next chapter will be better!
> 
> (Also thank you for the Kudos and Comments they are so completely appreciated)


	5. Happy and sad is ok

Hannah hadn’t been too startled when she woke up. She had expected as much. She remembered the whole time she had been infected, the constant back and forth of two voices in her head. Only one voice was familiar to her, it was the same voice she had been hearing every day since she could remember. It was a comforting voice now, protecting her, telling her how to handle every little thing that crossed her path. Webby had predicted and knew everything. She had been with Hannah until she felt her sister dig the knife into her chest. Then Webby had stopped talking as things went black. Hannah hadn’t liked that but there was nothing she could have done at that point. Then she remembered her eyes opening, room in a blue haze as she had unwillingly glanced around. Then she heard a voice. She had wanted to smile but her body hadn’t done what she willed. Then she had realised that the voice wasn’t the same as what she had always known. It was a male voice. It was accented slightly; she couldn’t figure out what the accent was though. It had just begun echoing through her mind the way Webby’s normally did.

_‘We got you easy, huh? Pathetic really. But now that we’ve got you and your sister, our work is almost done.’_

The voice made Hannah feel uneasy. Well, that was to be expected considering she had just been gruesomely murdered. But what made her unease strengthen was what she saw now, her body was moving, taunting Ethan, taunting his uncle. She didn’t want it to do that. She tried to pull it back, she tried to kick out, send her own reawakened body off balance, but she hadn’t been able to. She couldn’t move, she was just staring out, stuck with no control.

_‘Sit still. You can’t escape. Just fucking watch us win, enjoy it.’_

The voice made Hannah terrified. If she was still inhabiting her own body rather than the infection, the hair would have stood up on the back of her neck. She would have shuddered. But she couldn’t move without something else willing it. She was forced to be still and listen to the voice as words circled around her. She was used to the cursing, she had grown up around Ethan and Lex. But their voices never held such malice, she had never been afraid of them. She wanted Webby, or Lex or Ethan. She had Lex and Ethan; they were both there. But Lex was trapped as she was. And Ethan was suffering. Hannah would have cried but she couldn’t. Then she recalled how the second voice had come in. Softer than the brash male voice but still commanding enough that Hannah listened. 

_‘Bad man.’_

_ ‘You can’t give her more than two words, can you?’ _

_‘Bad man.’_

They had carried on like that as Hannah’s body had served the hive. Webby’s voice warning her of the bad man. At that time, Hannah’s only thought had been that it was the male voice in her head. Now she was sure of that. She also remembered when the shock went through her body. She hadn’t felt it. The hivemind convulsed and let her body collapse. Hannah had just been left in it as her body rested against the ground of the theatre. She heard an angered yell from deep within her skull. The voice fading off into oblivion. Her brain had been filled with dark and terrifying thoughts. Would she be stuck here? Would her body just degrade and leave Hannah there? Unable to change her own fate. She wanted to cry. But she still had no control over herself. Then she heard the softer voice again. Webby returned to comfort her.

_‘You won’t die Hannah… I know you won’t.’_

It was the first time Webby had ever spoken in full sentences. She always gave Hannah fragments of the bigger story, forcing Hannah to put the pieces together on her own. Try to put the pieces together everyone constantly calling her crazy or telling her that it meant nothing. She knew it meant something. She trusted Webby as the last of the blue blood drained from her body and the infection couldn’t sustain her. Then she remembered it fading to black. That’s why she wasn’t surprised when feeling returned in her body. The pain returned too, finally Hannah was able to cry. Her eyes were closes as tears fell from under them. Her head hurt badly but she supposed it would have. She tried to silently call out. Was Webby still there? It sounded as if the male voice had been killed with the infection, what if Webby had died too? 

  
Then when Hannah’s eyes had opened and she had seen Lex, all logic flew out the window. She had screamed. In her still child-like mind, she had been the only one awake during the apocalypse, the only one stuck in the body. In a way that was true now. She had vaulted up and run from her sister, the visions of the knife stabbing into her own chest. Then she had hit the woman from the Professor’s house. There was something about her that Hannah trusted as much as she didn’t like her. It was strange, at first it was how similar Emma was to Lex that had spooked Hannah, it was at the time when she wanted her sister back. That’s why Hannah’s thoughts on her had changed. She didn’t mind the man either. He seemed kind enough, he knew sign and that meant that Hannah had at least one person to turn to. She would have had Ethan but now she could see his body on the bed. That was something else she remembered. She remembered lighting that match and throwing it at Ethan’s feet with maniacal giggles. Then she remembered the male voice’s words when Hannah lit Ethan on fire. It had been a strange feeling as she did that, like something was worming away in her mind. The words echoing. 

_‘Interesting. He might be an even better victim.’_

That’s what it was. That’s why his mouth was moving. She looked up at Lex in terror. She probably let out some senseless babble about the voice as Webby repeated _‘Bad man’_ again and again. Just like she had when the male voice had been talking to her at first. Lex just stared in confusion. Lex's confused expression tacked. No one ever believed Hannah. But she had known that already. She gently covered her hand with the sleeve of her too long hospital gown, it was probably made for an adult, she pushed down on the door handle. She shuddered a little at how cold the metal was. At least there was a small buffer between is and her hand. She couldn't focus on it. She just wanted to see Ethan. She tensed a little at the loud squeak from the door, letting it swing open slowly. She smiled weakly as Ethan glanced up at them. There was fear in his eyes. Hannah's thoughts were practically confirmed at this point. She neared him.

 _'Ok?'_ She signed to him.

 _'I'm ok, Banana.'_ Ethan smiled, returning the signs as he tried to sit up with a groan. He could feel the barely burns on his stomach tearing a little. He gripped onto the armrest as tight as he could. Hannah could see the pain in his eyes. One of them was only half open, a burn about halfway across his eyelid. He sighed a little. 

"Hey Ethan..." Lex sighed as she joined them, awkwardly sidling into the room and studying her partner. She didn't remember what had happened to him, she just saw the burns and knew it was a similarly violent method of dispatching him. She carefully picked her way across the multiple wires on the ground, connected to several monitors. She eventually made her way to Ethan's side, gently wrapping an arm around Hannah before taking it off when she flinched. 

  
"Hey..." He grunted as he tried to sit up more, looking over to her. "The fuck is this place?" He was very confused already but he was extremely calm about it. He had been burned alive and was still here. Nothing could be more batshit crazy than that. 

"Uh, some kind of military base I think?" Lex shrugged, gently reaching to take Ethan's hand. He took it and squeezed it weakly immediately. "Hannah and I were in the same room, she was awake before I was and I scared her, because of the fucking weird singing things." She still couldn't comprehend what had happened. Were they actually all dead? Well, that didn't matter. She was right here with her boyfriend and sister and that was all that mattered. She had been so afraid of using them when she was alone in the school. She had hoped that they were together. That they had gone back to the trailer or to Ethan's shared apartment. But she didn't know. She hadn't seen where they had gone when she charged through the crowd and towards the school. It had taken until all the singing had died down that Lex noticed that Ethan and Hannah weren't beside her. She had assumed they were considering that there were bodies on each side of her. More random singing citizens. She had tried to turn back but then she saw violence break out. Two men beating a third against the street, a woman flying from a window. She couldn't get back to where she lost them. So she had just sat there in hope. She knew Ethan could protect her better than Lex could. She then looked up, noticing how deathly silent the room had grown. She glanced to Hannah and Ethan, they were staring across the room. There was soft crying.

* * *

  
Emma had been watching the couple's reunion with a small, weak smile. They were together and that was fine. At least they were happy. At least the little girl seemed calmer than she had been before. She just wished that she could feel like that too. She just whished that she could feel safe and like this facility wasn't going to end up being bad news. But while the man in glasses, Xander, seemed relatively reliable, Emma never trusted hospitals or anything of the like. Well, this was definitely not a hospital by any means. Hospitals never had men and women with guns running around saving humans from apocalypses. She sighed, shifting her feet and realising she was staring at the small group. She looked around the blank room, trying to find something else to focus on. Then she landed on the thing she hadn't seen before. She had assumed that Ethan wasn't alone in his room but she wasn't aware that the other person would be the man she had lost only hours, days or weeks ago. Paul was laying on the other bed, feet wrapped and eyes closed. 

Emma ran across the room. She didn't care about the risk of tripping, she just wanted to be by his side immediately. He seemed so peaceful compared to her rush to be with him. She just couldn't believe it. But she should have known that he would be here due to the fact that the kid and the burnt teenager were there too. But Emma was just glad to see him. She grabbed his hand the way Lex hand to Ethan only a few seconds ago. She studied his hand. There were long scars across it, bandaged wrapped around his wrists, bloody and looking practically wrecked. She could even identify the dips in his wrist where she had seen bones and ligaments falling out. She rand a thumb gently across them. She felt a piece of bone shift slightly and cringed. They probably hadn't noticed it and not removed it. He probably wouldn't be able to use his hands very well, but she didn't care. To her it didn't matter how hurt he was. She just wanted to have him with her. Maybe then things would feel better. She then noticed that there were tears running down her cheeks. But she was smiling. She didn't know if she was happy or sad, but she guessed both was fine. She could accept them both. Everything seemed ok now. Emma leant down a little, head on Paul’s shoulder. Little did she know that in the next hour, shit would hit the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took long, this fic will get better soon, I swear. Just cleaning up some loose threads.


	6. Recovery

“Attention all citizens of Hatchetfield. By now, most of you are awake and are all most likely wondering how exactly you survived the various traumas you incurred three days ago. All will be explained today. In fifteen minutes, Lieutenant Xander Lee will be detailing the situation to you all in a public setting, answering any questions you may have. This will be held in the building’s secondary meeting hall, located in the third wing of the building and with its location detailed on signs in each hallway. If you believe in your ability to walk there yourself, please proceed carefully and follow the signs. Many of our military agents will be lining the halls and ready to aid you. Alternatively, if you cannot get up, please press the button located beside your bed and an agent will be in to help you momentarily. Thank you.”

The voice cut out, plunging Professor Hidgens’ world into silence once again. He sighed softly. He really had given up, hadn’t he? He was disgusted in himself. He should have fought harder to save Ethan and he didn’t. He shouldn’t have accepted death and given into the infection like he had either. If he could turn the clock back, he would. Perhaps to a time before he sealed himself in that house and let himself rot there. If he hadn’t then maybe he wouldn’t feel so awful now. The infection had only been injected into his neck and yet he could find no movement in his body. The pain in his back and neck prevented it. Maybe the consequences of having the toxin injected into the veins rather than being reconstructed were much more dire. Henry couldn’t prevent the urge to run more experiments once he was able to return to his normal life. He sighed before registering what had been said in the announcement. Well, he guessed the combination of his age and his current paralysed state meant he wouldn’t moving on his own any time soon. He sighed and looked at the empty bed on the other side of the room. He almost wanted to know who had been there, if it had been by last name it could have been Ethan. The thought of the teenager made his mind go into an appropriately tragic reality. What if Ethan had requested to change rooms the moment he saw him? He had been that disgusted by how much of a coward his uncle was and hated him that much that he wanted to leave? He wished that that wasn’t the case but there was always the niggling thought that it might be, that he was hated that much by his own flesh and blood. It was within reason. He had abandoned the teenager then watched him burn to death, he gave up on humankind and doomed them by giving in to the hive. He deserved to be suffering. 

He sighed and turned to the button beside his bed. He wished he didn’t have to ask for it but he wasn’t getting there alone. He pressed it softly, wincing at the agonisingly loud beep it let out and the pain that followed moving his arm. He looked towards the door, he could see people rushing past, all headed in a singular direction. For once, others were as curious as he was, other people wanted the answers the announcement promised. Henry wanted those answers too. He watched the window as he saw a black uniformed woman approaching. He tried to sit up but groaned, the agony unbearable. He sighed as the door opened. Great. Now he needed help. The last thing he wanted. 

“Sir, please don’t move. Allow me to help you into a wheelchair at least.” Her voice was calm but firm. She was dealing with everything the best she could and henry could tell that. But he took her words a little harshly, especially the last part. Ever since he officially became “old”, it had always been a nonstop barrage of “Do you need help lifting that?” “Do you need help with cleaning?” “Do you need me to look after you this weekend?” And he hated it all. Well, the last comment was more forgivable considering he had only heard it once and he had just gotten out of hospital. But everything else just made him mad. He hated needing help considering how much he prided himself on only needing himself. He hadn’t needed anyone since he was kicked out of home and it should have stayed like that. But now the woman was lifting him out of his bed, trying to settle him into a wheelchair gently with a small sigh. She seemed stressed but he understood why. He could barely feel anything as she made sure he was in before pushing him towards the door and into the stream of people. He winced as he saw faces go past. Past students, fellow teachers, one particular man who made his skin crawl, but he adverted his eyes from him as the military woman kept pushing the wheelchair. He had to push any other thoughts away, none of that mattered. Everyone was in matching hospital gowns. If Henry hadn’t put two and two together, his mind would be making horrific assumptions of what this place was. Everyone seemed grouped and uniformed. 

Surprisingly, like Henry, no one was looking at each other. He guessed it was too painful to face the actions they had taken while infected. He understood that. It was too painful for him as he saw the woman that had been with Emma at the beginning join the steady flow of people. She seemed just as antsy as she had been when Hidgens first met her. Well, he hadn’t even gotten to meet her before her own husband had mutilated her right there in the professor’s house. He felt like he was to blame. He shouldn’t have left her alone. He tensed as her eyes wandered to him before locking onto him. She clumsily made her way towards him, brushing past people who shot her dirty looks until she reached the wheelchair-bound man. She just seemed relieved to see someone she knew.

“You’re the professor, correct?” She asked in a soft yet worried tone, trying to turn and walk beside him, offering a small smile to the woman pushing him. She was just staring straight ahead as Hidgens went to nod but decided against it. 

“Yes, I am. You were Charlotte? You visited me along with Emma and Ethan.” He didn’t know why he was letting this conversation proceed but he was. He looked up at the woman who now appeared confused.

“Emma and Ethan…? I- Oh, wait, Paul’s friend and the teenage boy?” She deemed so doubtful of herself. That was worrying to the elderly man, he had seen the way Ted appeared to take advantage of people, and he seemed to be close to Charlotte.

“Yes, the other men were Paul, Ted and Bill, yes?” Their back and forth was both them trying to identify each other. Neither of them really trusting the other. But Hidgens was good at reading people. He noticed Charlotte frown at Ted’s name. 

“Yeah… I work with all of them.” Charlotte nodded a little, he could notice that she was limping a little, arm around her stomach. Why she didn’t get a wheelchair and he did, he couldn’t tell. He was probably considered weaker considering his age.

“And Ted is your-“

“Friend. Ted is my friend.” Charlotte seemed so sure of that even though he could hear a small squeak in her tone. She was clearly anxious about this line of questioning. He decided to drop it as he was turned by the woman pushing him, leading him into a large hall. Everyone was squashed into the same room, all looking at a group of people up the front, all in matching uniforms and all talking in hushed anxious voices. That felt like a red flag to him. Even the people who were in control didn’t know what to do. He sighed and looked around. He knew practically every person in the room, provided they were at least over twenty. He would have seen them before he shut himself in. He recognised groups of them. Families and friends reunited after the horrors they had seen. He watched as two women hugged each other tightly, one holding a toddler in her arms. He couldn’t help but wish that he too had family reunite with. He had Ethan but he was positive that Ethan would have no sympathy for him. He already knew his uncle was a coward. Why couldn’t he have just swallowed is pride? Why couldn’t he have just talked to his sister? She was so young when he had left, it wasn’t her fault for what they had said to him. She was barely able to comprehend the worlds when he was kicked out of home. She wouldn’t have understood a word of what they said to him or called him. But he had taken his anger out on all of them. He couldn’t stop it and now she was dead, and he was an idiot. 

While the professor was wallowing in self-pity, there was something else happening in that large, packed room. While most were relieved to see those they knew, most were calm and talking in hushed voices, crowded together. That wasn’t what Ted Richards was doing. He had his arms folded, glowering, staring forward at a very specific man. A man that made his blood boil. Sam Mayweather was stood across the room, arm around a young woman. Ted recognised her as the barista from Beanies, the one who was attractive sure, but wasn’t exactly Ted’s type. Sam clearly had no idea that Charlotte could have been in the room. Ted had the spiteful thought that Charlotte would just forgive Sam if she saw that she would agree with him that it was an honest mistake. He lived by the belief that she would trust that man no matter what. Even if the evidence of him cheating was so clearly in front of her. Ted knew she was a cheater too, obviously, he had spent far too much time with her in her husband’s bed. But he had far more sympathy for her as opposed to Sam. Even though Ted would cheat with someone, he would never cheat on anyone. He thought it was wrong in any form but with all the shit Charlotte went through, she deserved to have one good thing in her life. Ted perceived himself as that thing. 

He then felt a cold chill run down his spine. Sam had looked over, locking eyes with him. Ted’s body language was nothing but aggressive, he was giving Sam a reason to perceive his actions as a threat. He did believe that Sam knew of his and Charlotte’s relationship, he didn’t care. But with all the pent up tension of the apocalypse, it was inevitable that something bad would happen. He carefully uncrossed his arms as he watched Sam whisper to Zoey, her letting out a soft giggle and letting go of him. Ted tensed even more as Sam looked back to him, stepping in his direction. Sam was leering at him, his gaze challenging and mocking. He wanted to pick a fight, and Ted was more than happy to oblige. They both took a few mutual steps forward too, the crowd was dispersed enough for them to reach each other. Ted just tried to hold his ground, posture relaxing as he unfolded his arms, moving to slip one of his hands into his pocket until he realised that he had none. Exposing hospital gowns weren't very functional. He was trying to make himself look more threatening than he actually was. Sam was clearly psychically smaller than him, but Ted would be crazy if he wasn't scared of him. 

"What are you fucking staring at?" Sam's voice was low and growly, staring up at Ted with a sneer. Ted just scoffed a little, he was unamused by Sam’s attempt to portray himself that aggressively. He took a single step back from him.

“Nothing. Just a question, is your wife aware of your side piece?” Ted smirked slightly, enjoying the way Sam looked cartoonishly angry, fists curling a little. Ted could barely hear him make a small shushing sound, he didn’t want the world to know how terrible he was. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Oh, I don’t? I’ve seen what you do. I know what you say to Charlotte, I know why you leave Charlotte lonely night after night.” 

“She deserves it. She does the same things behind my back, you just won’t admit it because you’re her side piece.” 

Ted bit back a laugh at that comment. He couldn’t believe that Sam was trying to turn this back on him. “At least she’s not fucking disgusting. At least she’s in a safe relationship, at least she isn’t hurting anyone.” At that, Sam pushed himself chest to chest with Ted, the tension snapping. Ted shoved him off of him, shouting something that was cut off by Sam’s fist slamming into his jaw. Ted stumbled, eyes tearing up unwillingly. He shook his head but it stung far too much, the ring of stitches around his face were burning. They almost felt torn. Then he was sure they were as Sam punched him again, harder, sending him sprawling back across the ground. The ground was cold and the impact winded Ted as Sam climbed over him, pulling his arm back to hit him again. Ted’s eyes closed a little, preparing for the impact. Then he felt Sam’s weight leave. At first he thought Sam had just gotten up and spared him. He opened his eyes a sliver, seeing two men in military uniforms holding a seething Sam back. A woman over Ted, she looked terrified, was she genuinely worried for him? He could see her badge even through his blurred vision. Private Lydia Dorsey. 

“Sir, are you alright?” Lydia asked gently, pulling Ted up into a sitting position as she kneeled beside him, looking over his bloody face as people around them stared.

“I think so…” Ted mumbled, lifting a hand to wipe his face, part of his face where the stitches had snapped catching on his arm. He winced as he saw blood smearing up his arm. Well, he saw it for a little. Then the lights went out. He felt Lydia’s hands on him gripping tighter. The dark clearly terrifying her. Then he heard a male voice.

“It’s locked.”


	7. Explanations

“Lieutenant, relax, please.” Colonel Schaffer sighed as she stood on the small, walled off area of the meeting room. She was trying to calm the man in front of her who was just pacing back in forth in distress. The few agents of higher ranks were with them, along with agents they considered trustworthy enough. 

“No. Something really bad is happening. I know it is. I know that... he is doing something!” Xander hadn’t stopped pacing, tapping his knuckles on his upper thigh, trying to cause a bruise. “The little girl… Hannah, she kept saying ‘bad man’ when I came to bring her and her sister in here. You know as well as I do what she meant.” He looked around the small group of agents who weren’t trying to calm Hatchetfield residents. His eyes fell on Lydia who once again was terrified. He felt awful. He had promised General MacNamara before his passing that he’d look after her and he was barely able to. He shook his head a little to himself as Schaffer interrupted. 

“Xander. I know you’re mad, I know you’re scared. But I am in charge here, and I say we focus on the residents. They all suffered through far too much. We need to calm them and help them recover before we focus on the issue at hand.” She reached forward to take a hold of his arm, holding him still. She was looking up at him, practically imploring him to relax. She then turned to the assembled agents. “Here’s what I want from each of you, Xander go out there with your team and get everyone’s attention. Then begin explaining. I will take Moore and Peterson to go find a way to open the doors and turn the lights back on. Spencer will take Dorsey and any citizens who are under the age of thirteen into this room. They don’t need to see the sobering reality of what has happened.” She had gestured to each of them in turn before gesturing to the door and making a hand action for them to move out. She still hadn’t let go of Xander’s arm. He tugged away, clearly mad. He knew that PEIP technically went to her now that the general was dead. But he couldn’t help being mad. He couldn’t help wanting things to return to normal. He couldn’t help wanting John back. Still he left as instructed by his new boss. 

Schaffer sighed as she watched them leave, gathering the other two agents behind her. She couldn’t help but worry for him. She could see how much pain he was in and she couldn’t change it. She turned to the two men behind her, leading them out and towards a side door, she didn’t assume it to be locked. She had to practically shove her way through the crowd, repeatedly asking them to move, repeating her title again and again. It was hard to see where the door was in the dark, but they got there eventually. She pressed down on the door handle and the door shuddered slightly. But it remained locked tight. She pulled back a little, tugging on it. How had all the doors locked simultaneously? She pulled at it, the lack of aircon in the room had made it hot. The sweat on her hand was causing it to slip, she fell back onto the ground, letting out a small growl of frustration. There were eyes on her as she could hear Xander trying to get everyone’s attention. They were much more focused on the military woman trying to get back up and ground herself, hands regrasping the door handle. The two agents who had been with her had gone to test two other doors. She was frustrated and kept trying to open it despite knowing that it wouldn’t open. There had to be a way out. She knew, like Xander did, that the longer they all remained locked in this room, the quicker the danger would grow. And it was already growing. They had to stop it and fast.

* * *

Tim let himself be pulled through the group towards a door on one side, a smaller sectioned off area. He had no idea what had been happening. The last thing he remembered was being dropped off at his school. He remembered his dad getting back in his car and he remembered being worried for his father. Maybe he had known something bad would come of that day. Maybe he hadn’t. He was used to being worried. He was used to acting like the adult in his family. He didn’t know what to think when the doors of his classroom were broken down and when all his fellow students went running. Then the knife plunged into his gut and he screamed out. He just wanted his dad. He wanted to feel safe again. 

So now he was just doing as told, following the woman who had tears on her face through the door and into a cluster of the rest of the kids. He didn’t understand why they were being taken away from the adults. But he just let it happen, being pushed next to two other boys by the rest of the kids crowding the room, all bigger than he was. He then heard pained screams. The whole group did, looking to the door, startled. They all stared on as a girl was dragged in, crying and trying to grab onto something. The scared woman went to her side, whispering quietly, Tim could hardly hear it. He could make out a few words though due to his close proximity. 

“-still be there once this is done.” The woman whispered to her. “I promise this will be quick.” 

The little girl mumbled something back. It vaguely sounded like. “I don’t like it here…” She stared at the woman, waiting for a name. 

“Call me Lydia. Come on.” She carefully led the girl to one side of the group before nodding at the other woman to proceed. Tim looked back to the other woman as the girl, who looked slightly older than he was, stepped in beside him, the woman standing close to her. 

“Hey, everyone, I know you must all be a bit confused as to where you are.” The woman up the front started, looking to her partner for a moment before talking again. “I am Private Liz Spencer, my partner, at the side of the room is Private Lydia Dorsey. We are not going to explaining the situation, rather, we are here to look after you while your parents find out the situation to you. We are leaving it in their hands as to how they tell each of you. Are there any questions?” She carried herself with such a level professionalism that Tim wondered if there was even any personality to speak of. He noticed that the girl had raised her hand and Spencer nodded towards her to speak. She just reached up to whisper her question to Lydia. 

“Hannah asked what’s out in the hallways.” She repeated, a small waver in her voice. Tim guessed it was probably due to speaking in front of the group. There was a small wave of confusion from the kids who were old enough for thought. They hadn’t noticed anything in there. 

“There’s nothing in the hallway apart from straggling citizens and a few PEIP soldiers.” Liz sighed, looking to the rest of the group. “Any other questions for Private Dorsey or myself?” The group was silent, and she sighed yet again, nodding to herself. Tim just stood amongst the group, deep in thought. Where was his dad now? Was he ok? Did he even survive? How was he still here? Would his dad be able to explain it to him? He was terrified by the thought that he could now be an orphan. The thought that both his mother and now his father had met horrific fates. He just hoped his dad had fought back if that was true and his life had ended prematurely. The thought terrified him. 

* * *

Ethan was also considering the same realities about his uncle as he stood there, hand in hand with Lex and the reality of what Hatchetfield had been up against dawning on him. He was looking upwards towards where Xander stood, carefully sorting his way through the thousands of poorly posed questions that were thrown his way. Ethan hadn’t even been able to say anything to Lex yet. He was just in a state of shock at the realities. His burnt body was resting on a walker in front of him, most of the officers had been assigned to help the elderly after all. And there he went again. The thoughts of his uncle. He could remember the few things said before his own death. But he had never received an explanation. A proper serious one at least. And he wanted one, but he also wanted conformation that his only living family was still there. Maybe it would give him the tiniest bit of hope for his future. Someone who could be there for him. But he knew that the cold-hearted Professor wouldn’t be helping him any time soon. He then felt a soft hand on his own charred one, squeezing it soft enough to not produce any pain. He smiled slightly in recognition that Lex was still beside him, he looked up at her but noticed her face was instead concerned. And she wasn’t looking at him, past him maybe. Ethan turned his head, slightly too fast but he showed no visible pain. 

His uncle was sat in a wheelchair, hands on the wheels, indicating that he pushed himself over. Ethan could see odd bruises covering his neck, the veins there a dark, sick colour, the side of his neck is where the discolouration appeared to come from. Ethan assumed it was a mark of his death at the hands of the aliens. But he couldn’t think of what violent acts would lead to that. He let out a shaky breath, unable to think of what to say. Thankfully the professor could. 

“How are you feeling?” Henry asked simply, there was no need to rush into apologies or explanations just yet. He needed to ensure the boy’s safety first and foremost. That was his role now, he supposed. 

“As well as I can… “ Ethan sighed as he looked to Lex for reassurance, she just nodded. He glanced back to his uncle. “How are you? What happened to your neck?” Maybe the question was insensitive, but he was curious as to what conditions could have led to a mark like that. The older man sighed a little at the mention.

“The bastards injected their infection right into my veins. They probably wanted to make sure it took root within me. I’m still struggling to move.” He was going to mention his belief that the infected had chosen him for his “superior intellect”, or what he perceived as such, but he didn’t think it would be beneficial to their conversation. “This is your girlfriend, yes? I’m just assuming based on the hand holding and the fact that you were with your girlfriend’s sister.” 

  
“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, she is.” Ethan spluttered a little, he hadn’t expected his uncle to ask such a direct question about his personal life. He’s assumed he didn’t care. “Yes, this is Lex, we go to, well, we went to school together and you know. She was trapped in the school when I went to help get Alice back.” He shrugged; gripping Lex’s hand slightly tighter. He noticed how uncomfortable his uncle’s expression got at the mention of Bill and Alice. Ethan could tell he regretted letting them leave. He blamed himself and that was ever-present in his face. But for some reason, Hidgens didn’t mention it, turning his attention to Lex. 

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, young lady, I hope you’re good to my nephew.” He nodded a little, smiling as he heard Ethan groan softly. He was filling his position adequately already. He looked up at Lex, noticing her small chuckle and glance to Ethan. He liked her already. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, hope you’re good to my boyfriend.” She had a small tone of attitude to her voice. She obviously had her doubts about the man before them. She had never heard anything about Ethan’s family apart from his mother. And she had only met her very few times before her untimely death. She was just protective of her boyfriend. 

“I will be as good as I can be.” Henry sighed. He knew why she seemed so furious with him; he had acted like an idiot. “Now, Ethan, may I please talk to you alone? I have to apologise to you.” He didn’t want anyone to hear him say that he was wrong. He still was extremely self-aggrandising. He saw Lex raise an eyebrow before nodding and stepping away, mumbling something about going to find the girl Ethan had brought to his house. He sighed again.

“What is it?” Ethan asked, crossing his arms subconsciously. He was unsure on what they had left to discuss. Hidgens hadn’t reasoned anything to him so far. He didn’t want to have to listen to whatever hairbrained theories came out of his uncle’s mouth. But Hidgens had just paused for a moment, looking for a proper way to phrase it.

“I’m sorry I let you down… I completely did. I was an awful uncle. I was an awful person. What I did had no reason and purpose. I was angry at the family, so I shut them all out. I only even found out about you through your mother’s birth announcement that she sent out. God, she was always like that.” Hidgens had a small fond smile on his face as he thought of his sister. He missed her. And he hadn’t seen her since he was eighteen. Now she was gone. 

“So, what happened?” Ethan asked, arms folded, and eyebrow raised. He didn’t really know how to react to all of this. He had never seen his uncle as anything more than the random man he had heard yelling at his mother over phone. He didn’t see him as having any actual feelings.

“My parents kicked me out of home when I was eighteen after I came out to them.” Hidgens said sharply, he sounded like he was holding back emotions. “They were fine with me leaving at first. They left me alone. But then they realised the shame that I would bring to the family if I was ever found out. So then they spent forever trying to track me down. So I fled to Hatchetfield. I had almost been locked in for five years when your mother called me the first time. She had tracked me to Hatchetfield. That’s why I ignored you. I was terrified that you and your mother where there on behalf of your grandparents. I’m sorry.”

* * *

Down the hall from the room they were locked in was yet another room. The portal room. And there was something coming through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long! But I'm back with more of my nonsense.


	8. Ted is still a shitty Person

Ted was mad. He was furious. All he had heard today had drove him over the edge. He was still nursing his blood nose from the fight with Sam, the skin on top of it feeling loose and gross. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. Maybe it was the loss of the moustache that everyone had said defined him for most of his adult life. Maybe it was the stiches outlining his face and, in his mind, ruining the appearance that had made up his identity. He was confused and mad about everything, especially as the words of the man in glasses played back in his head. Dead. They had all died in their gruesome murders. There were aliens too. Well, he had learned part of that through conversations with the professor. But everything else was too much. They were all dead and surviving off of the source of the alien’s power. They had a week left of surgeries and recovery before the military- PEIP more specifically, severed the connection and prayed that the Hatchetfield residents would be able to remain alive. Ted could handle most of that. He could handle the idea of more surgeries but that wasn’t what made him furious. What made him furious was the next statement coming out of the man’s mouth. He remembered it word for word.

‘Though there is always the chance that the entities on the other side will figure out our plan prematurely. In which case they will be the ones to sever the connection before we have had the chance to plan for any possible mistakes we’ve made in surgeries. You will all need to prepare yourselves for that possibility.’

Ted couldn’t believe it. This government agency could end up as all of their final resting place. He could have dealt with his death in Hatchetfield. But the idea of giving them what Ted perceived as false hope was sickening to him. It was the sentiment of “we decided to risk your life, be prepared for both outcomes'' that made him so angry. He felt it was irresponsible to give all of these suffering people hope but leave in a small statement of doubt. Some would disagree with him and say they were being kind, he just thought leaving the seed of doubt was cruel. He stood there, arms folded as he stared straight forward as the cold, white walls of PEIP. He was just completely overcome with the thoughts on PEIP and Sam and everything that had happened three days ago. He remembered everything up until his death.

He remembered the terror of hearing the faint singing from Mr Davidson’s office, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he heard the office doors open and heard Melissa join in. All of them. Every one of his co-workers apart from a select few were on their feet, spewing their deepest desires melodically. Ted had let his eyes dart around at a mile a minute. His eyes hand fallen on Charlotte, she was horrified too, squirming in her chair. He felt even worse. What made him more uneasy was what she and Paul had mentioned before, the singing they'd both heard. And now it was surrounding them all. He had looked back to Mr Davidson, something was leaking from his mouth, staining his business shirt a deep blue. The liquid had a strange looking texture. Like some form of slime. That had horrified him. He had carefully pushed himself to his feet and looked around the office, only seeing one other set of eyes meet his. Bill was also stood up and at the ready. In fact, he had looked like he was ready to bolt then and there. Ted had almost laughed at his deer in headlights-esque expression but that was quickly held off by the voices in the room seemingly getting louder.

He remembered then feeling Charlotte's hand grip his. That would have been insignificant if it weren't for their unspoken agreement to never lay a hand on each other in the office. It had always purely been to conceal their relationship, only ever broken when they were sure that they were alone in the building or their floor. Something told him that she would never have done that unless she was truly terrified. That had given him more motivation to get out of the building. It had just snowballed from there. Them rushing to the professor's house. Charlotte curling into him, that had almost made him feel like he was finally in the relationship he'd craved to have with her for so long. Then they had gotten into a fight. They had been practically screaming at each other and Ted had shoved her down. He had acted like a dickhead and he knew he had at the time. But he had stormed off, finding his place upstairs, drinking, having a go at Bill and flirting with any breathing entity that came close enough.

He regretted most things about how he had handled the situation. He remembered the moment he was on the ground with the Professor holding the knife to his face. That was his darkest moment. His life, the mistakes he'd made, how disgusting he was, it had all flashed through his mind. He had just stared upward, eyes wide. And then that's how the story went, the blade separated the skin from his face and then he woke up in a stiff hospital bed in the shady government agency with no memories of anything else that had happened. He had now been informed that he was dead and that an alien infection had taken over his body. It sounded like bullshit to him but the tone that all the officials had made it sound true. Ted didn't know what to think. He just stared at the ground in complete turmoil. Then he heard a small sound from behind him, someone clearing their throat. He sighed and turned; met with a sight he didn't expect. The professor was there, hunched over in a wheelchair with the teenage boy flanking him, hands on the back of his wheelchair. Charlotte was on his other side.

"Ted, hey." Charlotte smiled softly, voice gentle, Ted able to see the bandages tight around her stomach. "This is nuts, huh?" He almost laughed at the way it seemed like she was trying to make small talk when their relationship was far past it. Maybe she had seen him in a fight with her husband or she still was stressed by the fight they had or her death. Actually, it could be any number of things. Ted didn't know.

"Very eloquently put, Charlotte." Ted snorted a little to himself. He may have been stressed but that didn't make him any better of a person. "It's fine, it's just a heavy topic." He lied as he looked to the other two men, looking them up and down, considering them. He didn't understand why this strange group had assembled. What did they all have in common? Charlotte noticed his discomfort.

“The professor and I were in the hall together.” Charlotte shrugged, looking to the man. “And Ethan is just helping him get around easier.” She glanced back to Ted, eyes casting up and down. She had clearly noticed the line of stitches but maybe she hadn’t put together what had exactly happened to him. She hadn’t been around for it after all.

“Sliced off…” Ted said before anything else could be brought up. “My face I mean, sliced clean off by the Professor. Kind of still pissed, but mostly that Paul and the crabby barista outlived me.” Ted seemed strangely sobered by the situation. Only a week ago, he would have beat the professor bloody for what happened. But he now had the knowledge of the truth, and he now knew that no one had wanted to commit senseless violence. That was the good thing about this situation. That’s what grounded Ted. He looked down to the man in the wheelchair as he started to speak.

“Please take my sincerest apologies,” He began, the teenager pushing him ever so closer to Ted. “None of us exactly had control over our bodies and I behaved like a fool even beforehand. I am sorry for that.” He didn’t sound like he meant it. Like he was doing what he thought was passable as an apology, maybe, but nothing sincere. Ted took it with a grain of salt as he nodded, arms folded across his chest.

“I know. Char, have you found any of the others?” He turned his attention to her again. He didn’t want to have to be bothered with Ethan and Hidgens. She was the only thing he valued.

“I saw Paul, he was on a walker. Emma, I think, was with him… Uh, Bill was there too- “

“So no one important?” Ted smirked. He didn’t mean it. Relief poured over him knowing that those he’d lived his life structured around were still there. But that didn’t mean he was going to be polite about it. He still didn’t want to let his built-up walls of backchat and assholery fall. He noticed a change in all three of the others' facial expressions. The teenager just seemed mad, but Ted had gotten the feeling that being aggressive and looking aggressive was his perpetual state. He did seem like the kind of kid to be a merciless bully in Ted’s opinion. The professor was startled for a second, like he was considering how Ted could say such things about his co-workers and whoever Emma now was to him. Then there was Charlotte who just looked disappointed in him. Like a mother might in a child. That’s how Ted knew Charlotte would be if she and Sam were able to have children. Thankfully it was Charlotte who spoke up.

“I guess not, but it’s good to know that most of us are still here, right?” She gave him a look. It was like she was trying to prompt him to be a better person. When she got no reply, she just proceeded. “Melissa and Mr Davidson are together by the back wall and Sam is with his work friends.” That was just what she had been told by him. She was lucky enough to have not seen the fight that broke out between Ted and Sam. She had only seen her husband once since they woke up in the same room.

“Yeah, I saw Sam and his ‘work friends’.” Ted made sure to change his tone of voice when he reached those two words. The thought of Sam made him furious no matter what. And hearing Charlotte talk about him in such a loving way made him even more irritated than before. “I actually ran into him before. I was lucky enough if you could even say that. By the way, his work friends are the two chicks from Beanies, right?” He somehow made his voice and expression even more smug, eyes gazing at Charlotte before flicking to the two men. Who both had their eyebrows raised, surprise as they inferred Ted’s meaning before the woman did.

“No, no, his co-workers are the guy over there and-“ She realised the stupidity of her own statement as her eyes followed her words and she noticed the other pair of cops were alone together and not with her husband. He wasn’t there and she hadn’t cared to notice. She looked back to head and shook her head, a silent plea for him to not bring up his hairbrained theories about Sam, that were much more literal than she’d care to know.

“I can’t believe you don’t see it.” Ted snorted as he looked to Ethan and Hidgens. “You know what I mean, right guys?” He was always looking for other opinions to support his. He thrived off of being right.

“If you mean to be making yourself out to be a giant fucking dickhead, then yeah, we know.” Ethan glared at him; hands tightened around the handles of the wheelchair. He couldn’t deal with Ted already. He hadn’t been able to deal with him when he was alive. Ted opened his mouth to retort but Hidgens cut him off.

“I say we avoid this line of conversation, I feel it’d be better for each of you involved, yes?” He stared at Ted expectantly, again, it was like the disappointed expression he’d seen Charlotte hold. Hidgens may end up being a better father figure to Ethan that he expected. Ted just sneered and rolled his eyes. He may drop it for now but there was no doubt he’d bring it up again once he and Charlotte were alone. If they were ever alone.

“Fine. What do you want to talk about then? How lovely being locked in this room is?” Ted asked in his usual bored, sarcastic tone. He could feel other people occasionally brushing against his arm or back. There was too many people for one hall.

“I just don’t want to think about home.” Charlotte sighed softly. She folded her arms as Ted had, but rather than in any display of aggression, it was a small shield, a way of huddling into and protecting herself. It made her look weak to most, it made the three men have sympathy for her. Ethan hesitantly placed a hand on Charlotte’s arm.

“It’ll be fine, I swear. Hannah seemed to trust the glasses guy, and that kid is absolutely uncanny.” Ethan offered the woman a smile, it was awkward but comforting. He was showing her the good in a person at a time when Ted and Sam were both making it hard to see. Ted was almost resentful as she launched into a conversation with the teenager. They had just brushed past him. It made him feel like he wasn’t good enough, which he wasn’t.

“Did you manage to find your girlfriend?” Charlotte asked him, turning away from Ted, essentially shutting him out of the group. “You were looking after her sister at the professor’s house.” He noticed the fond smile that appeared on Ethan’s face when his girlfriend was brought up. The eighteen-year-old had a more stable relationship than Ted ever would have.

“I did. She just went to collect Hannah from the room with the other kids. She’s fine, really. I can’t believe that we all are.” He had yet another, almost dopey smile on his face. Then he seemed to remember something. “It’s strange. I keep hearing something… Hannah does too, she keeps repeating ‘bad man’ all the time. Always around the same time I hear something. I just can’t tell what it is.” He shrugged and looked down a little, his uncle raising his eyebrows again.

“That reminds me…” The older man frowned, shifting a little in his seat to sit up straighter. The same set of actions he’d always taken when he’d tried to get his class to listen during one of his lectures. “I heard something before my own untimely death. It was pushing me to fight back, telling me to explain things to Ethan. It was faint. I couldn’t tell what it was. But I heard something too. Is the voice you hear feminine sounding?” He looked at his nephew, Ethan moving to be in his eyeline. Now Charlotte and Ted were both shut out.

“No, the opposite.” The boy frowned slightly, in apparent confusion. “I definitely hear a man but I don’t know any voice like it. It sounds a little like fucking Danny from school, but I’d rather die than listen to his irritating voice so it’s decidedly not him… I don’t know, there’s just something about it that seems weird.” Ethan and Hidgens watched each other for a moment, nodding in solidarity, leaving Charlotte and Ted to stare at each other in confusion.

“Sorry, so now we have to account for men and women talking in people’s heads as well as an alien apocalypse trying to wipe our town off the map?” Ted reached out and forcibly turned Ethan to face him. They were close together, to the point where ted was smirking and leering in Ethan’s face. He pushed him away.

“God, I really do hate you, and I’ve known you for around an hour including being at Hidgens’ house- actually it’s weird to refer to you by last name, whatever. You’re really getting on my nerves.” He glared at Ted, before moving back behind the professor and moving to push him away. He went to speak again, to criticise Ted again when a faint squeak sounded. It was the squeak of rusty door hinges opening.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and this story as a whole, isn't that great and I'm sorry. I'm working on something else that I'm excited about so I hope it's better. Thanks for all of the support on this, hopefully I can get better with this story, I'm just trying to get over all of the set up for the main climax of this.


	9. Bad Man II

Xander remembered that night so vividly. He remembered being sat around PEIP’s meeting table when the meteor struck Hatchetfield, an alert appearing on all their personal screens that had been tracking the ever-nearing meteor, watching over the town. He had been sat beside John when they saw it at the same time. Xander’s eyes widened a little and he tensed up. He had been predicting it for months now but none of them had thought it would ever actually land. John had tensed too, but he didn’t have the same look of shock that Xander did. He looked determined and cold, prepared for whatever might happen. It had almost frightened the man in glasses to see his husband, so laser focused on the meteor. They all knew it would be catastrophic, but John was rarely ever this intense. He had always been so confident in his abilities. He’d made everything they’d ever fought seem like a walk in the park. But he had seemed like he knew there was a likelihood that they’d never beat the apotheosis. It threw everything off for Xander. He had no one to turn to give him any source of confidence. He remembered bringing that up, after John had given out the orders and the room had been deserted. The two had been left looking at each other, even Private Dorsey and Spencer, who the pair rarely had a moment without, had left. They stood there, staring in silence. There were too many thoughts crossing through their minds to get them all out in that moment. They knew it was what must be done. The world, the town, the people in it, they all depended on PEIP and Xander and John more than ever. Xander had just been trying to put the best words together, to form a goodbye to his husband, the knowledge that they would most likely never see each other again was far too much. But John went back to business.   
  
“I need you to take your team and figure out a cure, I don’t care what the rest of the scientists are working on, we need all hands-on deck. I know you won’t disappoint me.” He held himself in such a way that made him look nothing but in control. For anyone who saw him, there would be no doubt that he was a man of the military and a leader at that. But Xander just wanted to cry. John had just been ordering him around, acting like this was no irregular mission when they both so clearly knew the reality of what they had to defeat. But he had just accepted it and nodded, saluting John as he left. It’s what their relationship had always boiled down to. They could never have shared their feelings as openly with each other as most couples could. They were leaders in the paranormal force of the United States military after all. They had to seem like they were always stronger and tougher than most other recruits and they followed that, their marriage practically watered down to small smiles offered in the hall and sharing the same living quarters. They both knew that they held genuine affections for each other, but very few would be able to tell. Their marriage seemed like an afterthought to most. But this is how they connected the best, through silent nods and military field codes.

Xander wished he had the chance to say all he’d left unsaid when they’d parted ways that night. There was so much that he had to tell John, some things deep and heavily reasoned, some things just whatever thoughts came to his mind about their marriage. From the possible ways of dismantling the infected without killing to host body to his desire to renew their vows. But he had walked out. Going to do his job, to lead his team, to be a Lieutenant of the United States Military, Special Unit PEIP.

He just wished, above all, that he had gotten the chance to say “I love you” once more.

* * *

Schaffer listened to the steady, heavy steps of her and Xander’s boots against the linoleum floors of PEIP. The door had been open for ten minutes and they were trying their best to manage the situation. A few lower ranking agents had been left in charge of the Hatchetfield citizens, doing their best to calm them. So, the rest of PEIP had split off into various teams, each scouring a hallway, converging on the portal room. Xander and Schaffer had chosen to take the west hall. And that’s how they were now, walking in silence together. Both were the epitome of professionalism as they walked through the hall. Although neither wanted to be. Both were almost bursting at the seams with questions or observations or thoughts about the events that had transpired earlier that day. But they kept walking until Schaffer had enough of the quiet treatment.   
  
“You think what the kid is hearing is him, right? And he locked us in?” She asked quietly, fitting well with the deathly silent surroundings. “We need to be sure before we go rushing to conclusions and distressing our agents.” She was still so unsure of herself even as the new head of PEIP, the person the General had entrusted with the whole agency that had save his life in the first place.

“I’m sure it’s him.” Xander nodded a little, still walking with a hand resting on his gun. “Who else would have motive to mess with Hatchetfield? He and John both came from there, why wouldn’t he want to torture the residents, and people John cared about? He was trying to do something out here and that’s why he locked us in.” Xander had always been headstrong, he’d always been so sure of himself. There were often whispers as to why Schaffer was next in line to lead and not him. But they failed to notice his inner turmoil and how he only acted sure of himself. He relied on John and fellow agents for moral guidance. And now that was gone. He was now looked at as everyone’s guide. He’d already been leading Private Spencer; Liz was like an adoptive daughter to him at this point. But now he was second in command and everything was riding on him to handle the situation with as much dignity as he could have.

“I know you’re probably right, but I don’t want to put any unnecessary pressure on anyone.” She sighed. “How about this. If you’re so sure that he has a connection to that girl, you can run tests on her. Only with her guardian’s permission, I know what you’re like with the experiments and I’m not letting you run them on a kid without consent.” She was stern with that last statement. Xander tended to be fair too reliant on experiments involving shocking the subjects, she already felt a pull to protect the citizens and with the girl it was far stronger. She wasn’t going to even let Xander do anything to put her at risk. The man just sighed.   
  
“Fine, fine, I will but you know that sister of hers will not let me. I just need to find the source of the messages she’s getting. And no, I won’t electrocute her. She’s still being held alive by the Hive’s source of power. It’s not the infection anymore but if we electrocute her it could have the same effect as electrocuting the infected.” He mused as he looked through the darkened halls. “Though, electrocuting them turned them back into normal humans, like when the man electrocuted the meteor. The issue was that they were all to injured to live without the Black and White’s energy.” He sighed. He had wanted to say that to John too. He would have had this all figured out. But now he was gone.

* * *

He remembered when he had found out that his husband wouldn’t be returning to them. He had been in his lab with Lydia, the two silent, rotating around the bench as they tried to create a compound that could mimic the properties of the apotheosis. To better understand the weapons of their enemies. He had also been looking up periodically, studying the young woman. She was methodically toying with the plants Xander had injected the various chemicals into. He could always see upon looking at her why she would never be considered a model PEIP agent. She was skittish at times and struggled with various things that many would say were essential to deal with in the military. Xander remembered a time when he himself had though that. That’s why he admired John’s protégé. She was all that Xander loved in his husband, she was tough, and she persevered. No matter how many times he’d heard her be told that there was no place for her in the military. She suffered in a way that no others Xander knew had and she had always pushed forward.

Even considering the way Xander thought about Liz, he’d always think of Lydia almost as a daughter in law considering her relationship with his mentee. He’d been so at peace despite the threat looming just a few states over. That’s why, when he heard a soft knock and the door screech open, he hadn’t been overly worried. Neither he nor Lydia were set to go into the field, she still hadn’t been allowed to pass her psyche evaluation despite how much John had fought for her. He had thought it was just going to be one of his scientists or an agent coming to check on their progress. When he saw the blue hair that marked the agent as Liz Spencer, he had become slightly more alert despite knowing the likelihood that she was just there for her girlfriend. Then she had rested her hand firmly on his arm as a comforting gesture. Then she had spoken.   
  
“We’ve just had reports from Hatchetfield, from John. They had entered the school that held the highest concentration of assimilated residents. The last thing we heard was a gunshot, then his line went dead.” She spoke with such a void of emotion that most would thing she wasn’t saddened by the knowledge of what had most likely become of the General. Xander knew she was just good and resisting the emotion of it. But he wasn’t. Tears sprung to the man’s eyes as he tensed his hand against the table. It couldn’t be happening like this. He had believed so much in his partner, had such a confidence that despite the lack of hope, John could push through it. This showed that he couldn’t.   
  
He had felt Lydia move her hand to his other shoulder, also in an act of support. But he shifted away from both of them, removing his glasses from his pocket and sliding them on. It may have been dramatic, but no one needed to see him this damaged by something. He wasn’t damaged by it. He couldn’t be. He had to keep pushing like John would have wanted. But only he could see the glass in front of his eyes begin to fog up.

-

It was a solemn time at PEIP. Agents cold and broken-spirited, not having felt like that since a similar tragedy had occurred thirteen years before. That’s why Xander’s reaction had seemed so unsettling to his team. The diving into his work and trying to, uselessly, bury his sadness was the perfect opposite of how General MacNamara had acted. Except he had been practically forced to watch his now ex-husband shamble out to the swirling green portal, now given a heavy limp and a twisted grin. The man had been subjected to mockery and ridicule from the man he loved. He had been fighting to keep from crying. And he hadn’t been able to. The second the lunatic before him had been restrained and thrown back through, he had broken down. No one could blame him. He hadn’t even been a lieutenant at the time. He was only twenty-seven and he was already losing the only thing he had.   
  
For years he had cried about it. He had broken down again and again. The agents in the rooms next to him requested to move with how frequently he punched the wall in fits of rage and in his darkest hours. He had burned or destroyed everything his husband had owned. Photos of them were left charred on the ground, possessions of the other man were in a box sent to the bottom of the oceans. Everyone thought it was an overreaction, but it was necessary to John. The man he loved was dead and a traitor. There was no overreaction to that. The only thing he hadn’t burned was his wedding ring. He still had it until the moment he died, holding onto it alongside his second wedding ring. He had gone to burn it one night. He had fallen back into his feelings again.

It had been John’s fully spiraling mental state that night. And Xander had heard it all. It was when he first joined the agency, he was moving his stuff into the room next door. He had heard the screaming and the smash of glass as pictures were thrown at the wall. He didn’t know how to react. He had barely met the General, but he couldn’t help but be worried, so he’d pressed his ear to the wall. He’d heard swearing, sobbing and a fire roaring to life. He had then rushed in, worried. All that had come to the man’s head were the horrifying possibilities as to what could have become of the General when left to his own devices. He had pushed the door in with his shoulder, unsure what to expect.  
  
John had been crouched over his fireplace, yelling at himself. Repetitively, again and again. And he was holding his hand over the fire. He moved closer in worry before noticing that his hand was gripping something and dangling it over the fire. The light gleamed off of the shiny, unworn, silver ring that hang on an identical chain. He could make out the dark points on it that spelled out his two superior officer’s wedding date. It made him feel so remorseful. But he stayed silent and watched, he had heard tales from his fellow scientists of what had become of those who crossed the General when he was in this type of mood. He watched as the man shook and shuddered, clasping his chain. He began to release it before holding it tight again. He clearly couldn’t have brought himself to do it. His hand dropped a little and at first Xander was afraid he was going to burn himself. But then he saw his hand hit the hardwood floors and heard the ring clatter and roll across the ground. He heard loud, heavy, violent sobbing filling the empty room.

So, he stepped forward, clearing his throat and seeing two, tear filled eyes make contact with his. Neither man did much for a moment. Then Xander gently lowered himself to sit in front of the other man. He made sure he didn’t look imposing in anyway. He was there to support his superior. And that’s where he’d stayed for the next few hours before John got tired of crying, falling asleep leant on him. Their relationship from there was history.

Both of them had lost their husbands. But both broke in different ways.

* * *

In the east hall, there was another pair of PEIP partners. Lydia Dorsey and Liz Spencer walked together, in a much more comfortable state than Xander and Schaffer. Though both were still reeling from the death of their boss. None more so than Lydia. She was gripping her girlfriend's hand tightly as she glanced around. It was rare for her to want physical contact but when the world was like this, she was just as unpredictable as it was. Her hair had completely fallen out of its ponytail, probably from her running her hands through it.

General MacNamara was her mentor, he was like a substitute father figure to her. He was the only one who had ever fought for her when she joined the agency. She had been jumpy and fearful; she had been harassed and made gun of and that's why John's death hurt so much. She had no one to look up to and no one to stand up for her. She may have had her partner and she may have had the Lieutenant but neither of them had enough sway in the force to make a change. She just accepted that she couldn't do anything to change her standing, the only one who could was dead and it was all over. She looked back to Liz who offered her a smile.

"Lyds, I swear, things will be figured out before anyone gets hurt. I know you already like some of them, and I'm not letting them get hurt." She sighed as they reached a split path, two darkened hallways leading off and there were loud footsteps in one, reverberating and echoing off of the walls. making the darkness even eerier. That made both women tense. Liz put her arm out carefully, pushing her skittish partner aside and reaching for her belt and the small light attached to it. She gripped the flashlight tightly and let it beam into the hallway. But it was empty. And they could still hear the footsteps. The woman heard Lydia gulp behind her as the shorter agent stepped forward.   
  
“Who’s there?” She asked, the pitch of her voice becoming slightly higher at the end of her statement. She was visibly shaking and petrified. It could have just been another agent. But no one should have been in this hallway. All remaining agents in this sector were either in the hall or patrolling other areas. All the residents were gathered in the hall. All other sectors had been locked off for their agents own safety. No one should have been here. Then both girls felt the phantom sense of someone nearing them from behind, directly behind them, the hair on the backs on their necks immediately standing up as both of them whipped their heads around. They instinctively held onto each other immediately when they saw who it was. They recognised him from everything they’d seen marking PEIP’s halls.   
  
“Colonel Cross.” Liz breathed quietly, doing everything she could to move in front of the practically frozen Lydia. She couldn’t let anything happen as she stared into the cold eyes of the long-dead man. Then his expression twisted. Unreadable expression turning into a demented grin, baring teeth like some rabid animal. His eyes widened unnaturally, for a second, she thought they’d pop out of their sockets. He made no noise for a moment. He knew the silence would unnerve them more.

* * *

_All the agents in PEIP were so far apart from each other. Some in silent pairs, some in the packed hall. But all heard a piercing gunshot from the East hall and a choked-out scream of terror._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I haven't been too great especially with motivation. This chapter is mostly "Get to know all the PEIP agents trauma", I know I've started to make them more major characters but they're important for the story I'm trying to tell. Also I love Liz and Lydia. Again, credit to Kellz for letting me use her character, Liz Spencer.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I'm back at this fic. This is going to be a sort of a midquel, taking place in the year between Paul and Emma destroying the Hive and when they're in Colorado. This is my explanation on how the others were all alive by the end. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (The PEIP agent with the last name Spencer is not my character and belongs to readytomcf_ckingdie/Kellz. Thank you for letting me include her!)


End file.
